


A Little Faith

by DanaWPatterson



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Danger! Lesbian Sex Ahead!, F/F, Is anyone good at tagging?, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaWPatterson/pseuds/DanaWPatterson
Summary: “Why are you so invested in finding Zapata? I mean, what do you care? She’s lied to you and been a pretty shitty friend lately. Why don’t you just let her go? Is she worth putting your career on the line or getting in the way of the CIA?”





	1. Something About Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Back from my November hiatus with something new. It was meant to be a one-shot, but apparently I suck at that. I was starving for something new.

Patterson wondered if Reade heard the pain in her voice. Did he hear the way her voice cracked or see the way her lip trembled slightly as she tried to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes? They were there, welling up, and she had to do everything she possibly could to keep herself from crying. It physically hurt her to reassure him that Tasha loved him.

Pushing the pain aside, Patterson was seething with anger. She hadn’t seen Tasha since she signed her exit paperwork but even then, there wasn’t an opportunity to talk to her. Tasha was in and out and then she was gone. She’d tried to call her, but there'd been no answer. Patterson figured that she needed some space and she’d given it to her. Maybe that had been a mistake.

Reade knew that Tasha’s name appeared on the flight manifest of Blake Crawford’s downed plane and he hadn’t bothered to tell her. He’d seen evidence that Tasha was in Paris but he hadn’t told her. It was only when her face appeared on a wanted poster and Reade wanted her help and reassurance that Tasha had cared for him that he’d let her in on what he knew. She was furious. Tasha was her best friend and she’d been forced to watch as she’d gone after Reade. She didn’t care if Tasha cared for Reade. She cared for Tasha and wished that the brunette cared for her the same way.

_Whatever she has or hasn’t done, before that she was still Tasha. Our Tasha. And if she turned, it was after Keaton fired her. And she had feelings for you way before that. Trust me. She loved you._

Patterson could vomit. Her own words echoed back at her, and she was mad and sickened by them. Mad that she had to say them and sickened that they might be truthful. Maybe Tasha had loved Reade. Maybe he was the great love of her life. Maybe, despite whatever she was up to, she still did love Reade but Patterson didn’t have to like it. And she sure shouldn’t have to reassure Reade about anything like that.

Regardless of her own feelings about Tasha, Patterson was pissed off at Reade. She couldn’t figure out why he didn’t have more faith in Tasha. They’d known her for years through good times, bad times and, for Patterson, awful times, and Tasha was not a murderer. Sure, her moral compass didn’t always point North but she wasn’t a villain. Patterson was stunned that Reade might even consider for a second that Tasha Zapata was against them. That wasn’t the Tasha that Patterson knew and she refused to believe that Tasha had flipped. Reade’s willingness to believe that was infuriating.

She dropped down into her desk chair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and rubbed a hand over her face. Everything felt so stressful. Jane was dying, Roman’s data caches were still out there somewhere, and Tasha was being accused of murder. Everything felt upside down. Patterson sat up at her desk and her fingers flew over her keyboard. A moment later the wanted poster with Tasha’s face on it filled her screen and she stared at it.

There was no way that Tasha had killed someone. Her first problem with this whole thing was that Tasha wasn’t stupid. Tasha was smart. She’d been NYPD and FBI and CIA and she was absolutely not an idiot. Patterson suspended reality for a moment and allowed herself to believe that Tasha had gone rogue and committed murder. Why would she leave a witness? Why would she leave fingerprints? Tasha was too smart for mistakes like that.

 _No_ , Patterson decided, _Tasha hasn't flipped. She’s not that stupid._

She closed the wanted bulletin and stared at her desktop for a moment before navigating to a folder named Cuttlefish Redux and double clicked it open. Inside was every piece of information she’d been able to gather on Tasha since her name appeared on that flight manifest. She moved a copy of the wanted poster into this folder before selecting a plain text file named Timeline.txt and opening it. The file was a record of every movement Tasha had made since leaving the NYO. Patterson knew it wasn’t a complete record but it was everything she knew so far. But it was more information than Reade had. Reade was too busy moping around in his office, playing the poor-me, did-she-even-love me card to pay any attention to the subtle clues Tasha had been leaving behind.

 _Yeah, poor Reade. He had sex with Tasha and then she bolted_ , Patterson thought sourly. Then she laughed. _Maybe sex with Reade had been so awful that it set her on a murderous rampage._

Patterson collected herself. It felt good to laugh. She took a deep breath and directed her attention back to the screen to read through the timeline of Tasha sightings and known events.

“Earth to Patsy Cline,” Rich said as he waved a hand in front of Patterson’s face. “Come in Patsy. Do you read me?”

Patterson blinked and pushed back from her desk, creating space between her eyes and Rich’s waving hand.

“What, Rich?”

Rich looked from Patterson’s furrowed brow back to the computer screen. “Where were you just then? I was calling your name.”

“You were?” She shook her head. “Sorry. I was just thinking about Zapata. Reade is convinced she killed Kira Evans and that she’s turned. I just —”

“Don’t buy it?” Rich interrupted, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it over. He sat down. “Me either. I mean, grumpy gills for sure, but she’s not a murderer. It doesn’t make any sense. What former FBI agent leaves a witness and fingerprints behind? It doesn’t add up.”

Patterson’s face lit up.

“Yes!” she cried. “Thank you, Rich! At least someone gets it. Something’s weird about the whole thing.”

Rich nodded.

“I thought something was weird when Reade asked me to look into Blake’s flight.”

“Wait,” Patterson said and raised a hand in protest. “Reade asked _you_ to look into Blake’s flight?”

“Yeah. When we first heard it went down. He wanted to see the flight manifest and had me look into it,” Rich explained. He saw the look on Patterson’s face. “You had no idea he asked me to poke around, did you?”

Patterson shook her head and frowned. “I didn’t know about the crash and no one told me Tasha’s name was on the flight manifest until Reade needed a favor. This is bologna.”

“What are you thinking?” Rich asked.

Patterson didn’t respond right away. Her eyes fell back onto her computer screen. She wasn’t reading the information there but was just staring at the screen. Finally, she shrugged and looked back at Rich.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “There’s just something weird about all of it.”

Rich leaned closer to Patterson’s desk and gestured to the screen.

“So, what’s all this?”

“I’ve sorta been investigating Tasha on my own?” Patterson said carefully. “I really don’t think she would do what they’re saying she did. I dunno.”

Rich’s face grew serious and he turned his attention away from the files no Patterson’s computer.

“You’re doing it here? The CIA is looking for Zapata. Remember that whole dead or alive thing?” he said, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “You can’t do this here.”

***

It took almost an hour to get from the NYO to the Station House in Queens where Rich told Patterson to meet him after work. She’d agreed before realizing just how far away the bar was. It’d probably take her at least 30 minutes to get home, and Patterson cursed Rich out as she shouldered the door open and pushed inside the dimly lit bar. She scanned the room and spotted Rich perched on a barstool holding a pint glass.

“Why are we meeting way out here?” she demanded as she approached. She set her laptop bag down on the barstool next to Rich. “I was on the subway for almost an hour!”

Rich shushed Patterson and then signaled to the bartender for two more drinks.

“This is a shade bar,” he explained. “When you’re doing shady things, you need to find a shady place to do them. Plus CIA. Dead or alive, remember? I don’t know about you but I don’t need the CIA popping up at my doorstep because I poked my nose in the wrong place. You don’t shit where you eat. You do it in a shade bar.”

Patterson shook her head and rolled her eyes. She started to sit. “What are you talking about?”

Rich got up and waved for her to do the same. “No, don’t sit. Not here,” he said and grabbed the two fresh beers. He passed one to Patterson. “Come on. Don’t forget your little laptop there.”

Patterson groaned and settled her laptop bag on her shoulder as she followed Rich through the bar. He selected a booth near the back and slid onto one of the benches. When Patterson didn’t immediately sit down, he waved his hand at her as if ushering her onto the seat.

“Wipe that frown off your face,” he said. “Sit. Have a drink. Let’s talk about your super-secret files.”

The scientist dropped onto the bench opposite Rich. She fumbled with the zippers of her laptop bag and set the computer onto the table, turning it so they were the only ones who could see the screen. When the machine had booted up, she pulled a small jump drive from her jacket pocket and plugged it into one of the USB ports. Patterson quickly opened the folder for Cuttlefish Redux and turned the screen towards Rich.

“This is everything I have,” she said.

Rich took control of Patterson’s computer, reading the documents and clicking open new files as he went. Patterson sat silently across from him and sipped her beer while she waited for him to finish reading. He finally stopped reading and pushed the laptop screen back towards Patterson. Rich leaned back in the booth and picked up his glass. He took a swallow and then levelled a serious look at Patterson.

“That’s impressive. You’ve done a lot of research with nothing to go on,” Rich said, sipping at his beer. “Can I ask you something?

Patterson shrugged and took a swallow from her own drink.

“Why are you so invested in finding Zapata? I mean, what do you care? She’s lied to you and been a pretty shitty friend lately. Why don’t you just let her go? Is she worth putting your career on the line or getting in the way of the CIA?”

Patterson didn’t respond immediately. She took another drink and then cast her eyes back to the laptop screen as if she’d just seen something she hadn’t before. She felt Rich’s eyes watching her and realized he wasn’t going to drop it until she gave him some kind of explanation. She shrugged again.

“It’s Tasha,” she said simply. “And yeah, I know she’s done some shady stuff and hasn’t always told me the truth but it’s Tasha. She’s my best friend. I just don’t think she’d do the things she’s being accused of. And if she did, she’s just following orders. I know Tasha.”

Rich nodded and held Patterson’s gaze.

“Best friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, or maybe you’re in love with her but we can go with your explanation that she’s your best friend. That’s fine. Best friend sounds plausible. Boston’s my ‘best friend.’” He formed air quotes with his fingers as he said the last two words.

Patterson blinked hard in surprise.

“I am not in love with her, Rich,” she protested and rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Best friends,” Rich said as he put a finger aside his nose as if promising to keep a secret. “Got it.”

“I’m not. Tasha is my best friend. That’s it,” Patterson protested again, less forcefully than before. “Rich, be serious.”

Rich swallowed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. He shook his head.

“I am being serious, but if you’re telling me that you don’t have those kinds of feelings for Agent Grumpy Pants, then I’ll believe you,” he said. He paused and considered it. “Oh, who am I kidding? I won’t believe it. I’ve seen you. You have such a crush on her even the straights can see it. Well, maybe not Weller. I don’t think he sees things like that at all. And probably not Reade. He’s so involved with his own feelings for her he wouldn’t notice if I walked into his office wearing nothing but loafers and a smile.”

Patterson licked her lips nervously. She drained the rest of her drink and set the glass down. Her feelings for Tasha weren’t new. They’d been friends for a long time but when she’d been shoved into that cell in Venezuela and saw Tasha there, those feelings of friendship had evaporated immediately. She wanted to rush to her, hug her, and kiss her like no one had ever kissed her before. Once they’d returned to New York and Patterson had the opportunity to see Tasha working with the CIA, being slightly more assertive and take-charge, it’d only further cemented those feelings for Patterson. Tasha had left the FBI a strong, tough woman and she’d returned much the same but somehow more put together and surer of herself. And that was a bit of a turn-on. Hot, actually, if Patterson was being honest with herself. She was stone-cold in lust with Tasha. She wouldn’t tell Rich this. She hadn’t told anyone this. When Tasha had started talking about how she felt about Reade, Patterson had been forced to suck it up and just deal with it: her crush might never develop into anything more.

“Ok, maybe, possibly, I have feelings for Tasha,” Patterson admitted slowly. “I mean maybe. Just maybe. I’m not saying that I do. But even if I did, that has nothing to do with why I’m looking for her. She’s my friend and you said it yourself, the CIA is looking for her. If I don’t find Tasha, the CIA will. And if they do, they’ll kill her or put her in a black site. Maybe she’s messed up but I can’t let those things happen to her.”

Rich nodded and held up a hand.

“Okay. I get it. And I won’t say anything to anyone,” he said and then clarified. “About your maybe, possible feelings for Zapata.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded again and the leaned forward on the bench, resting his elbows on the table top.

“What have you heard about this MI6 agent? Anything?”

“The CIA thinks Tasha might have killed her,” Patterson said quietly. She continued quickly. “And I still don’t think that makes any sense. Do you know anything about how Madeleine Burke is fitting into all of this? Reade told me the CIA thinks Tasha is working for her.”

“That’s what I heard too,” Rich agreed. “Do you believe that?”

Patterson shook her head. “No.”

***

Thirty minutes on the subway turned out to be a generous estimate. The ride from Station House back to Patterson’s apartment in Brooklyn was nearly another hour ride, and she spent the entire time developing a mental list of all the ways she’d kill Rich when she saw him in the office the next day. Shade bar or not, an hour out to Queens and then another hour back home was ridiculous.

Patterson walked the short two blocks from the subway stop to her apartment with her hands shoved into her coat pockets. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tasha and her alleged crimes. It was almost hard to wrap her head around the idea of the CIA wanting her dead or alive. She fished her keys out of her purse as she approached her building and climbed the steps, freezing on the top step and looking around. It felt like someone was watching her. The sidewalks were empty, however, and she didn’t see anyone sitting in any of the cars parked on the street. She sighed and shook her head. All that talk about the CIA and black sites and shade bars had made her paranoid.

 _Thanks, Rich_ , she thought as she opened the door to her building’s foyer and started up the stairs to her apartment. Once at her door, Patterson keyed inside and engaged the deadbolt as soon as it closed behind her. She flipped the light switch closest to the door as she set her purse on a nearby table and shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it neatly on its peg. Patterson started towards the kitchen for a bottle of water and stopped in mid stride. She glanced around the room uncertainly. The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention and she was certain someone was watching her. She grabbed for the gun in the holster at the small of her back and flipped the safety off before continuing towards the kitchen.

After a moment, Patterson had completed the sweep of her small apartment and she let out another sigh. Rich had made her so paranoid with all that talk about dead MI6 agents and the CIA looking for Tasha dead or alive and, of course, his shade bar that her skin was crawling even inside her own home. She reengaged the safety on her service pistol and holstered the gun again.

“Come on, Patsy Pat,” Patterson muttered. “Get it together.”

***

Sabrina Larren had managed to follow Patterson from the NYO to the dive bar in Queens. She’d been surprised that the extremely bright scientist hadn’t noticed the tail on the subway but it was possible that Patterson had either not noticed or had simply assumed that Sabrina was just another mid-town corporate grunt who lived out in Queens to cut living costs. It wasn’t like they'd been introduced at the NYO and Patterson would have no reason to recognize her. She waited 30 seconds before following the blonde inside and then took a seat at the far end of the bar, ordering a vodka martini that she now regretted. It tasted like what she imagined paint thinner would taste like but she made a show of drinking it so as not to draw unnecessary attention to herself.

She’d arrived at the NYO and met with Matthew Weitz, the newest director of the FBI, and Edgar Reade but hadn’t had the opportunity to meet most of the agents. She knew about Patterson from reputation and had gone to introduce herself shortly after Weitz and Reade had left for Westchester to see Frank Davenport. Sabrina had been told there may not be a more valuable resource at the NYO than their head of forensic science but as she’d headed towards the lab, the name Zapata pricked her ears and she stopped to listen. She listened only long enough to learn about an offsite meeting Patterson would take to discuss the former CIA agent and then she ducked down a hallway just as the scientist exited the lab.

Now she watched as Patterson met with a man she didn’t recognize but who definitely didn’t appear to be a federal agent. He ordered two beers and then the two of them retreated to a booth just a few feet away from where Sabrina was sitting.

 _It might be a date_ , Sabrina mused as she subtly turned her body so she could see them from her peripheral vision. She changed her mind immediately when Patterson began booting up a laptop and pulled a jump drive from her jacket pocket. This was the meeting that she’d overheard Patterson making earlier in the day.

Sabrina wished she’d chosen a different seat. It was nearly impossible to watch Patterson and her mysterious and colorful friend from her vantage point. They were sitting almost directly behind her, and if she turned much more on her stool, it’d make it that much more obvious that she wasn’t just a casual bar patron. She strained to listen while continuing to sip at her paint thinner martini. It was nearly gone and she had to make a decision: stay, drink another horrible martini, and continue trying to listen or leave and take the next step.

The conversation in the booth behind her was hushed although she heard Zapata’s name mentioned several times and, if Sabrina was hearing this correctly, the scientist was looking into her whereabouts. She wondered why the intense interest and would have gotten the reason if the bartender hadn’t chosen that moment to approach and ask about a refill. Sabrina declined and got up from the stool. She wasn’t going to learn anything from the bar, and she didn’t know how much time she would have before Patterson and her unknown friend would break up their meeting. There was one more task she wanted to accomplish.

She left the bar and returned the subway, taking it all the way back to the Federal Building in lower Manhattan to retrieve her black government-issued sedan from the parking garage.

***

The lock to Patterson’s front door was easy to pick and there were no security cameras anywhere in sight. Sabrina used a snap gun and had the door unlocked and open in seconds, closing it and ducking inside quickly before anyone could see her. She dug a small battery-powered Phillips screwdriver from the pocket of her jacket and set to work on the light switch beside the door, removing the two screws that held the switch plate on and then inserting a small electronic device inside the switch. She quickly replaced the plate and screws and moved on to the kitchen, repeating the process with the switch there.

Sabrina moved through the apartment quickly and quietly, placing and activating small bugs in a switch in each of the rooms. When she’d placed all five bugs, she glanced at her watch and returned to the front door. She felt like she was pressing her luck – Patterson could return at any moment.

She hurried down the building’s main stairs with her head down and pushed out through the front door. She stepped out on the sidewalk and continued down the block until she reached her car. Sabrina climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted a small headset in her right ear while watching the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. It was only a matter of time before Patterson came home, and, with bugs now in place, if the scientist knew where the former CIA agent was, Sabrina would know soon too.

Sabrina sat quietly in the car and watched the sidewalk leading to the apartment. After five minutes, her patience was rewarded and she spotted the blonde approaching. She watched as Patterson climbed the front steps, stopped and looked around, and then went inside. She lost her visual for a moment as Patterson made her way up the stairs to her apartment and then Sabrina saw the apartment begin to illuminate as Patterson entered and went from room to room. Shuffling sounds filled her ear.

“Come on Patsy Pat

. Get it together.”

***

Tasha didn’t know why she was across the street from her friend’s apartment. It wasn’t like she could just go there and see her. She was wanted for murder – a murder she was not responsible for – and she couldn’t drag Patterson into it with her no matter how badly she wanted to see her friend. But somehow she found herself driving into Brooklyn and parking a few blocks from Patterson’s apartment. Now she stood in an alleyway directly across the street and watched as a woman she didn’t know went into Patterson’s building, flipped on the light in Patterson’s living room, and then returned to a black sedan parked down the block. Tasha didn’t need to look at the license plate to know it was a government-issued car.

 _Who is watching Patterson?_ Tasha wondered. _Why is Patterson being watched?_

Whatever the reason, Tasha felt an uncontrollable desire to warn her friend. As Patterson approached her building, Tasha wanted to step out of the alley and confront her but was struck by a wave of worry as she realized that her friendship with Patterson may have been the reason for the surveillance on her home. Whoever was watching Patterson was probably doing so in hopes of the scientist leading them to her.

Tasha stepped further back into the shadows of the alley and watched Patterson go into her building. She cast a glance towards the black car down the block. It was still there and the sole occupant – a woman – adjusted something in her ear. Tasha put it all together then: the woman watching Patterson had bugged the apartment. She had to warn Patterson.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and began navigating to Patterson’s saved contact info and then stopped. Reade had probably told everyone that she had broken into his apartment, threatened him, and pistol-whipped him. The memory of slapping him across the face with her gun brought a slight smile to her face. Sleeping with Reade had been one of the biggest mistakes she'd ever made. Now, everyone probably knew that she’d been saddled with the death of Kira Evans. If she called Patterson, she’d land right on the radar screen. Tasha shoved her phone back in her pocket and grabbed for the burner phone she’d picked up earlier in the day. She plugged Patterson’s number in from memory and texted.

**Don’t react. Your apartment is bugged. Someone is watching you. I don’t know who she is. Black sedan, six cars up the block.**

Tasha hesitated before sending the message. She needed Patterson to take the warning seriously but knew that the scientist would be skeptical of a mysterious text from an unknown number. She considered signing off as Atlantic16 knowing that Patterson would remember Dragonfly and Atlantic16 and then decided against that. Patterson wasn’t over the whole Borden thing but they had been talking again. They were even friendly. In the back of Tasha’s mind, the idea that she might get another shot at making her crush on Patterson more than a crush still lingered but she needed to let old wounds alone.

 _What was that stupid fish she was using to investigate Stuart’s murder?_ Tasha thought. _Cuddle something....CUTTLEFISH!_

She punched in the code word and pressed send.

***

Patterson’s phone vibrated against the kitchen counter and she snatched it up before it could shake itself onto the floor. She glanced at the screen expecting to see Rich’s name but instead it was the word “unknown.” She tapped her messaging icon and read the message. When she reached the end, she read it again and immediately went to the window overlooking the street.

A black sedan was parked about six cars away and there was someone inside of it.

She backed away from the window slowly, worried that the car’s occupant may have noticed her. Patterson looked back at her phone and read the message again. There was only one person who would have texted her a warning like this and then signed off as Cuttlefish. She cast another look towards the window and tried to scan the sidewalks. Tasha had to be nearby if she was texting with a warning about someone watching her home.

Patterson smiled as she stared at the text.

 _It’s Tasha_ , she thought. _She’s okay!_

And then she realized that Tasha had disappeared for a reason. The CIA was looking for her yet here she was texting her, using a codeword, but still she was stepping out of the shadows and putting herself at risk just to warn her. Patterson knew it was serious. She shoved her phone in her pocket and began moving silently through the apartment, turning off lights as she went. She flipped on the light beside her bed and turned off the overhead light. Patterson returned to the living room, snatched up her purse and jacket, and slipped out the front door, closing it soundlessly behind her. She began down the stairs leading to the front of her building and considered her options. If her apartment was, in fact, being watched, she didn’t want to just walk out the front door. She turned to her left and headed towards a rear exit.

***

Tasha saw the lights going off in Patterson’s apartment and knew that her friend had gotten the warning and was taking it seriously. That meant that Patterson had to know who sent the message. She looked back down at her burner phone. She wanted to text her again and tell her that she’s okay and that she didn’t murder Kira Evans. She needed to tell Patterson to trust her. Then she glanced back down the street towards the black government sedan. Someone was watching Patterson. She couldn’t risk texting again.

She turned her attention back to the front of Patterson’s building. After a few moments, when Patterson hadn’t emerged, Tasha began backing down the alley and retracing her steps.

 _She’s taken the back exit_ , Tasha thought.

Tasha’s mind left her body as her legs took her around the block towards the car she’d left parked alongside a curb a few buildings away from the rear of Patterson’s building. She turned the burner phone over in her hands a few times. She knew what she had to do. The phone needed to go. Her car was parked over a sewer grate and she was about to let it fall between the steel bars when she spotted Patterson coming towards her.

She froze.

Tasha hadn’t expected to see Patterson, and she felt herself start to panic. She couldn’t let Patterson see her. She was supposed to be gone; a ghost. But she’d texted and put herself on the radar and now Patterson was walking towards her.

 _Maybe she hasn’t seen me_ , Tasha thought as she put her head down and moved quickly to the driver’s side door. She opened it quickly and climbed into the driver’s seat.

***

Patterson didn’t see Tasha but her eye caught the sudden light from a car door opening. She directed her attention towards it and spotted the dark sedan. Her mind quickly flashed on the text warning she’d gotten. She’d assumed it had come from Tasha and she trusted her implicitly. If Tasha thought there was need for a warning, then there was need for a warning. For a brief moment she thought maybe this was the car she’d been warned about.

Her eyes focused on the silhouette in the driver’s seat who was illuminated for a brief moment before the interior light faded out. She was certain that it was Tasha. Before she could think, her feet were moving. She walked quickly towards the car and just as she was in arm’s reach, the car pulled away from the curb. Patterson furrowed her brow and watched as the driver rolled the window down and flashed a quick thumbs up before turning the block and disappearing from site.


	2. It Was Always You

Sabrina Larren was waiting in the lab for Patterson when the scientist got to work the next day. She was talking with Weitz but stopped their conversation as soon as Patterson stepped through the door.

“Patterson,” Weitz called to her. He gestured to Sabrina. “This is Sabrina Larren from the CIA. She’s investigating the security breach at Reade’s apartment and looking into Zapata’s recent activities. I’ve told her a lot about you and the magic you create here in the lab.”

Patterson frowned slightly and looked around. Reade was nowhere to be seen. She accepted the CIA woman’s outstretched hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” she said before turning back to Weitz. “Where’s Reade?”

“Assistant Director Reade has been relieved of his duties,” Sabrina supplied. “For aiding and abetting a suspected terrorist.”

Patterson’s frown deepened and she crossed her arms across her chest defensively.

“Tasha isn’t a terrorist,” she said. “She didn’t do those things.”

Sabrina frowned this time and shook her head. “You mean she didn’t break into Reade’s apartment, pistol-whip him, and break into the FBI’s computer network? Reade was mistaken in identifying Tasha Zapata as his assailant?”

“Yes. I mean, no,” Patterson said. “I’m sure it was Tasha. But she wouldn’t have done these things.”

“But she did,” Sabrina said. “Unless you’re suggesting Reade is a liar?”

Patterson sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “No, I’m not suggesting that,” she grumbled. “I’m just saying I know Tasha. She’s not this person.”

“Maybe not,” Sabrina replied, crossing her own arms. “But nonetheless, this is where we are. The CIA will find _Tasha_ dead or alive. Obviously, we’d prefer alive but we’ll do what we have to.”

Patterson closed her eyes before speaking. She wanted to spit on this woman. Dead or alive. What the agent really meant is they’d find and silence Tasha not matter what they had to do. It didn’t make any sense for the CIA to be so wrapped up in trying to find Zapata. Unless they were trying to cover their own tracks. Patterson eyed Sabrina suspiciously and then dropped her arms in a gesture of surrender.

“Well,” she said, adopting a friendlier tone. “If there’s anything my team to can do to help, let me know. We’ve worked with Agent Zapata for a long time so we might be able to offer some insight that the CIA doesn’t already have.”

Sabrina blinked in surprise. From everything she’d overheard the previous day, she expected Patterson to be a dead-end. Additionally, she’d already been briefed on the friendship between Zapata and Patterson. They were friends, best friends if her intel was correct, and she hadn’t expected Patterson to offer any assistance. She knew there had been a rift between them before Zapata’s dismissal from the CIA and wondered if perhaps the rift had been deeper than she thought. Perhaps the scientist had not actually forgiven the former agent. It was a possibility that Sabrina thought she might be able to exploit.

“Thank you,” Sabrina replied as her cell phone let out a chirp. She swiftly pulled the phone from her suit jacket pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me,” she said as she stepped out of the room and walked down the hallway.

Weitz began to follow Sabrina out of the room but Patterson grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

“You don’t believe Tasha is a terrorist, do you?” she hissed at him. “And you fired Reade?”

Weitz cast a glance towards the CIA woman and then looked back at Patterson. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied quietly. “This is under control.”

He started to walk away again and Patterson grabbed at him more roughly, pulling him back towards her.

“What do you mean, it’s ‘under control’?” she demanded. “Nothing is under control. The CIA wants to find Tasha and put her in a black site for being a terrorist, and Reade’s been fired? That’s not under control, Weitz!”

Weitz turned back and faced Patterson, gently prying her hand off his arm. He glanced over his shoulder and then guided her back into the lab.

“Look, I need you to trust me,” he said. “No one is going put Zapata in a black site. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen. And don’t worry about Reade. I’m on your side on this. Just trust me. You just do what you do. Help Larren when she asks but just keep your head down and work.”

He didn’t wait for Patterson to respond but gave her a single nod and walked out of the lab. Patterson watched him go, her mouth slightly open. She couldn’t believe what had happened. Rich came up behind her as she was puzzling and tapped her on the shoulder. Patterson jumped and turned around quickly.

“Did you hear all of that?” she asked.

“What that whole Reade’s been fired and the CIA thinks your girlfriend is a terrorist?” Rich asked. “No, I heard none of that. Of course, I did. I have ears.”

Patterson crossed her arms and glared at Rich.

“Tasha is not a terrorist!” she said too loudly.

“You’ll deny that but you say nothing about the girlfriend comment?” Rich replied. “You really are in love with her.”

Patterson shook her head, sighed, and closed her eyes. “Just shut up, Rich,” she said. “Did you need something?”

Rich looked out towards SIOC and back to Patterson.

“The briefing?”

“I forgot I have something to do this morning,” Patterson said.

Rich raised an eyebrow. “Something to do?”

“Yeah,” Patterson said, gathering up the jacket she’d just tossed on the back of her desk chair. “I told a neighbor I’d feed his cuttlefish while he’s away.”

“Cuttlefish?” Rich asked as Patterson brushed by and headed towards the door.

She turned back and gave him a look. “Yeah. Cuttlefish,” she said. “You run the briefing. I’ll be back.”

***

Patterson left the NYO and walked the few short blocks to the subway. When she arrived Tasha’s apartment, she followed one of the neighbors inside before the door could close and lock. Now she stood in front of Tasha’s door. It felt like it had been ages since she’d last been here. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been there. She took a deep breath and knocked tentatively. After a few moments when no one answered, Patterson knocked again.

“You looking for Natasha Zapata?” a male voice asked from somewhere behind Patterson. She whirled around and found the building’s superintendent heading towards a maintenance closet.

“Yes,” Patterson said, following him. “Have you seen her?”

“Don’t live here no more.”

“What?”

“She moved,” he said as he opened the closet. He leaned against the open door and appraised Patterson. He recognized her from previous visits. “She’s your friend and you didn’t know?”

Patterson shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen her in a few months.”

The superintendent nodded as if he understood. “Four months,” he said. “She came back one day, found me downstairs and said she was moving. I stopped by the next day to set up a few appointments to show the place but the door was open, her key on the counter, and the place was empty. Gone.”

“Just gone?”

“She left a note with her keys,” he said and shrugged. “Something about if anyone comes looking for her, I’m supposed to tell 'em to stop looking. So, I guess you should stop looking.”

Patterson frowned and nodded. “Thanks,” she mumbled and headed back towards the stairs.

“Hey,” the landlord called after her. “Know anyone looking for an apartment, send 'em my way, okay? Haven’t been able to rent this place since your friend moved out.”

“Sure,” Patterson said and then continued down the stairs. She reached the front door and headed back to the subway. Her mind was racing.

 _How could Tasha just move and not say anything? Where is she now?_ she wondered as she boarded the train and took an empty seat. She pulled her phone from her pocket and reread the text she’d received from Cuttlefish the previous day. She wanted to text her.

Patterson began drafting a text and then stopped. Tasha didn’t text from her normal number. She was most likely using a burner phone and the odds were good that she’d already ditched the phone. Tasha was being careful; she wouldn’t just hang onto something that would put her right on the radar screen.

“Fuck it,” Patterson said under breath. She quickly tapped out her message and hit send.

**Thanks for the warning, Cuttlefish. Can we meet?**

She waited for a response but after 10 minutes, she hadn’t received an answer.

 _She’s already tossed the phone_ , Patterson thought sadly. The only connection she had to Tasha was gone.

Patterson glanced up at the next stop listed on the train’s digital map. She was three stops away from the NYO. Her chance of finding Tasha was slipping away and she didn’t’ know what to do next. She sighed and began to put her phone away when it vibrated in her hand. She checked the screen immediately.

**I don’t want to put you in any more danger.**

Patterson read the text twice and bit her tongue.

 _Put me in danger?!?_ she silently fumed. _Give me a break, Tasha!_

She considered the text for a minute. Tasha was close. She had to be. Patterson was 100% positive that the brunette was the person she saw in that car the previous evening and, now, Tasha declined not because it wasn’t possible but because she was worried about endangering her. Patterson punched out a response and waited.

**Please. Don’t worry about me. I need to see you. I need to know you’re okay. You’re my best friend and I’m worried about you.**

The response was almost immediate.

**I’m okay. Don’t worry about me either.**

Patterson sighed and tapped out her response.

**Please?**

There was no immediate response and Patterson was ready to give up. The train slowed as it approached the next stop and the phone vibrated in her hand again. She scanned the message quickly and got to her feet, quickly exiting the train and heading towards a different platform.

***

Patterson arrived at Tasha’s suggested location within 10 minutes. The train, for once, was running on time, and she nearly ran from the stop to the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument at Fort Greene Park. She scanned the area but didn’t see Tasha and dropped down onto a nearby bench where she could keep an eye out.

***

Tasha was already at the park when Patterson arrived. She’d taken up a position at the small visitor’s center and kept out of sight. She saw Patterson jog into the park and look around before sitting down on a bench. Tasha surveyed the park carefully, looking for anyone who might be tailing her friend.

Whoever bugged Patterson’s apartment the night before was looking for her. Tasha was sure of that. It was probably the CIA or the NSA, and that thought made her crazy. Tasha was a well-kept secret at the CIA. She’d only killed the MI-6 Agent because her handler told her to. Her handler was another Company Man, and he’d told her that if her true role was uncovered the CIA would be unable to help her. She’d be on her own and if she was on her own that might mean prison, a black site, or even death. The only way to preserve her mission was to eliminate Claudia. So she had.

Tasha hadn’t thought things would get so hot so quickly, and she was furious the CIA was acting as if she was some rogue former agent with an ax to grind. Now she was confined to the shadows. Simply reaching out to Patterson to warn her about her bugged apartment was a big risk. Meeting her out in the open in the middle of Brooklyn was probably a stupid risk but she ached to see Patterson. She missed her so completely that she was surprised by her own feelings. And there she was, sitting on a bench waiting for her. Seeing her again made her chest tight and her heart race.

Certain she was alone and had not been followed, Tasha stepped out of her hiding place and started towards the bench where Patterson sat alternating glances between her phone and her surroundings.

“Hey,” Tasha said quietly.

Patterson shot to her feet and ran the few feet that separated them. She didn’t even think as she raced to Tasha and captured her in a tight hug, staggering the brunette and causing her to take a few faltering steps backwards.

“Tasha!” she cried. She was probably much too loud but Patterson didn’t care. She pulled back from the embrace and just took in Tasha’s face for a minute. It had been too long. She looked perfect. Her eyebrows were perfectly shaped, her eyes sparkled, and her lips were covered in a light gloss. Before Patterson could stop herself, she kissed Tasha hard on the lips.

Tasha was startled by Patterson’s hug and completely thrown by the kiss but she found herself kissing her back as her heart began to beat impossibly faster. In her mind, she’d thought about kissing the blonde on at least a hundred different occasions but there was always something that stopped her from acting on it. There was David and Borden and California and Jack and then Borden again but now it was actually happening. She pulled her hands from her pockets and circled Patterson’s waist, pulling her close.

Reality set in for Patterson when she felt herself being drawn closer and Tasha kissing back and she pulled away. She furrowed her brow and studied Tasha’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so happy to see you and I didn’t mean to kiss you. I’m so sorry.”

Tasha licked her lower lip and gave a slight nod towards the bench. Her lips tingled from the intense kiss. She wished it hadn’t been cut off so quickly. “Can we sit? I don’t have a lot of time.”

Patterson returned to the bench and sat. She stared straight ahead as Tasha sat beside her. Patterson felt her cheeks flush in mild embarrassment. She’d had no intentions of hugging let alone kissing Tasha but her emotions had gotten the best of her. Maybe Rich was right: she was in love with Tasha.

“I didn’t do it,” Tasha said, glancing at Patterson. “Kira Evans, I mean. I didn’t kill her. Madeleine Burke pulled the trigger. I was left to clean it up. We went in to retrieve her laptop with Hank Crawford’s files. That’s it.”

Patterson didn’t respond immediately. She never thought that Tasha had murdered the attorney but she didn’t think Madeleine Burke had either.

“I did kill the MI-6 agent, though,” she continued. “But I had to. She knew who I was and would have blown my cover.”

“Your cover? What are you talking about, Tasha? The CIA is looking for you. Dead or alive,” Patterson said incredulously. “What cover could you possibly have?”

Tasha chewed her bottom lip. This was complicated and, as she’d told Patterson earlier, she didn’t want to put her in danger.

“It’s complicated.”

Patterson turned her head to stare at her friend.

“Try me,” she said. “What could possibly be so complicated?”

Tasha blew out a slow breath and surveyed the park again. She didn’t see anyone paying them any unusual attention but she was starting to feel uncomfortable sitting still for so long. If someone was tailing Patterson, it wouldn’t take long before they found them on the bench.

“Can we walk?” she asked.

Patterson responded by standing. She turned back to face Tasha and waited as the brunette got up, did a 360 sweep of their surroundings and then picked a direction. The pair started walking towards the playground on the opposite side of the park.

“There’s a lot of moving parts,” Tasha began slowly as they walked. “It’s a bit messy but the most I can really tell you is that it’s not what it seems. I haven’t gone rogue or whatever other bullshit lie is being spread around the NYO. When I left the CIA that day, I didn’t go to a tribunal. There was no tribunal.”

“What?” Patterson asked. She was stunned. This was not the story that she’d been told by Reade. “Reade said...”

Tasha shook her head. “Reade didn’t know. In fairness, when Keaton fired me, I didn’t know either. I thought I was done. It was just a step.”

“A step to what?” Patterson asked and she stopped walking. She grabbed Tasha’s arm and stopped her. “Tasha, what is going on?”

Tasha looked down. Her heart was still racing and her palms felt slick. Being around Patterson always had this effect on her and now, seeing her after four months, was like seeing her for the first time. She remembered the first time they met and how her mouth had gone dry and she’d nearly forgotten her own name. When she realized that the blonde was brilliant as well as beautiful, Tasha had fallen in love. Not that she’d ever acted on it. She took both of Patterson’s hands in her own and looked into her eyes in an effort to convey the seriousness of what she had to say. She had so much to say and she didn’t want to say half of it because she didn’t know how Patterson would take it. At the same time Tasha had to tell her if only because she didn’t know if she’d see her again. She took another deep breath.

“I’m serious here, P,” she began. “I don’t want to get you hurt. I don’t know who was watching you last night but I’m guessing it was someone in the CIA. Someone who doesn’t know the whole story.”

“What is the whole story?” Patterson pressed.

Tasha shook her head again. “I can’t tell you. I care about you too much to put you in that kind of danger,” she said. “I need you to trust me. To believe me when I say I haven’t crossed. I’m not a villain. I’m the same person you’ve known for years. I just can’t talk about what I’ve been doing.”

“Tash,” Patterson said.

“No, Patterson,” Tasha interrupted. “Please. This is hard. I need you to have faith in me. Just a little bit. Believe me when I tell you that I’m still on your side. I’m doing everything I can as quickly as I can to end all of this. I just, I just can’t risk you. You’re too important to me. I can’t risk that you’ll get hurt. I love you so much. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to get mixed up in any of this. Please, Patterson. Just believe me and keep yourself safe.”

Patterson stopped listening when Tasha said the three words that she’d always hoped to hear from her. She was sure Tasha didn’t mean them the same way that Patterson would have meant them but just hearing “I love you” come from her made her pulse quicken.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Patterson said finally. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“You’re my best friend,” she continued. “If you're in trouble, let me help you.”

Tasha was shaking her head before Patterson could finish her sentence.

“No,” she said, a hard edge creeping into her voice. “There’s nothing you can do, Patterson. You need to stay out of this. If something were to happen to you, I don’t think I could bear it.”

She realized she was still holding Patterson’s hands and she reluctantly let them go. Tasha glanced quickly around them. It was time for her to go. She’d already been there too long. She wrapped her arms around Patterson and gave her a quick hug, placing a friendly kiss on her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Patterson,” she said. “I shouldn’t have reached out at all but I wanted to see you and I saw someone watching your apartment. You needed to know, but I have to go.” She turned and started to walk away towards the street but abruptly turned back. This might be the last time she saw Patterson and she needed to tell her the one thing she wished she’d told her years ago. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years. You’re so much more than my best friend. If something happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive myself so I have to go. I have to finish my job and you need to go back to work.” She paused again and took a deep breath. “It was never Reade,” she said. “It’s always been you.”

Tasha turned away and walked away quickly before Patterson could respond. She raised her arm as a cab approached and opened the back door when it pulled to a stop. Patterson took a few hurrying steps after her.

“Tash!” she yelled but Tasha was already in the car and it was beginning to pull away. “It’s always been you, too.”


	3. A Terrible Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tasha,” Patterson whispered. “This is a terrible idea.” 
> 
> “Mmhmm,” Tasha replied as she pulled the collar of Patterson’s shirt aside and placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin. “Terrible”

Tasha was already in the backseat of the cab when she saw Patterson run to the side of the road and yell after her. The driver’s window was open slightly and her friend’s words still rang in her ear.

_It’s always been you, too._

She couldn’t have possibly heard correctly. There was no way Patterson had just told her that she loved her; that she had been in love with her for a long time. It was impossible. Tasha leaned back in her seat and rubbed her eyes. Everything was so upside down and manic, why was this coming out now? Where was this admission months ago before everything was set into motion? Why couldn’t Patterson have told her years ago? Not that she couldn’t have told Patterson how she felt years ago.

Tasha sighed and fixed her stare on the cab’s ceiling. The cab was slowly taking her back into Manhattan where she would meet with Madeleine to try to push her own agenda forward under the guise of Madeleine’s agenda.

“You okay?” the cab driver asked, watching her through is rearview mirror. “You look like you’re having the longest day.”

Tasha gave a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

The driver glanced in his mirror again and made eye contact with her. “You sure?” he asked. “It’s a long drive. Traffic over the bridge is gonna be a bitch.”

“I’m fine,” Tasha repeated. “I just got some unexpected news is all.”

“Good news?”

“The best.”

***

Patterson watched the cab pull out into traffic and merge into the sea of cars. She could see Tasha’s silhouette in the backseat and wondered if the brunette had even heard what she’d said. Why had she just yelled it like that? Why couldn’t she have told Tasha that before the cab door closed? Why hadn’t she just told Tasha years ago that she had feelings for her. But Tasha had said it first! Why couldn’t Tasha have told her sooner? Maybe she didn’t mean it.

And then Patterson thought about the kiss she’d forced on Tasha. She closed her eyes and groaned. She couldn’t believe she’d done that. But Tasha had kissed her back. No, she hadn’t just kissed her back. Tasha had grabbed her around the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her. She’d been the one to break the kiss and had apologized for it but Tasha had kissed her back.

Tasha meant it.

She suddenly felt tired. After Tasha had texted the previous night, she hadn’t gone back home. Instead she’d slept at her desk at the NYO, using the showers in the locker room and changing into the spare set of clothes she kept in case of lab accidents. Patterson glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even noon but she felt as if she’d been awake for days. She couldn’t sleep in the lab again. She sighed as she fumbled for her phone and tapped on a speed dial contact.

The caller picked up on the second ring and Patterson wasted no time with niceties.

“I’m on my way. Don’t go anywhere. I need your help with something.”

***

Rich was waiting for Patterson in the NYO’s faraday cage with a bag filled with the supplies and equipment she’d asked for. He’d tried getting details from her but she said she’d explain later and then immediately disconnected the call.

“Did you get everything?” Patterson asked as she slipped into the room. She hurried over to him and snatched the bag out of his hands.

“EMF detector, RF wand, wire, wire cutters, butt connectors,” Rich rattled off. “Yeah. What’s all this for?”

Patterson looked around the room even though she knew they were the only ones there. She took a step closer to Rich and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Someone bugged my apartment last night —”

“What?!” Rich yelled and then lowered his voice. “Are you kidding? Have you told Weitz?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t know who did it and I want to keep it quiet for now.”

“How do you know?” Rich asked. “You know, that someone’s dialed in and listening to the Patterson At Home Radio Network?”

“Tasha.”

“Tasha’s listening?”

“No,” Patterson said with annoyance. “Tasha told me.”

“Wait! You found her?”

“Sort of,” Patterson admitted, shifting the bag into her other hand. “She found me.”

“That’s adorable,” Rich grinned. “Your terrorist girlfriend came looking for you.”

Patterson rolled her eyes. “She’s not a terrorist,” she said. “She just was near my place and saw something... You know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that my apartment is bugged and I can’t stay there until I do something about it.”

Rich grabbed the bag back from her and looked inside. He shook his head.

“This is no good,” he said and started out of the cage. “Come on.”

Patterson stared after Rich as he moved quickly to the door. He glanced back at her.

“Come, come,” he repeated. “Uncle Ritchie has a plan.”

***

“This is where you live, huh?” Rich said as he turned a slow circle in the middle of Patterson’s living room. “I always thought it’d be, I don’t know, more... Patterson.”

Patterson shut the front door and turned the deadbolt into place. She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “How could it be more ‘Patterson’? This is my place. And why have you been picturing my apartment at all? Creeper.”

Rich shook his head.

“I don’t know. I just thought more science and less Dungeons and Dragons,” he said as he picked up a small chess piece-sized figurine that looked like a wizard or dwarf or dwarf-wizard of some kind.

“Hey, put that down,” Patterson commanded, snatching the figurine out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf he’d taken it from. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Right. First thing,” Rich said as he returned to the front door and flipped the light switch back into the off position. “A little mood lighting. They use ambient electricity for power.”

He pulled out a small penlight and aimed it at the switch plate. He inspected the plate for a minute and then pointed at a small tool mark on one of the screwheads. Patterson leaned in closer to see what he was pointing at and noticed the small scratches. Someone had unscrewed the plate. Rich handed her the flashlight and held a hand out to receive a small Philips head screwdriver. Within a few seconds he had the switch plate off and the electronics exposed. He dug around inside the box for a moment and finally pulled out a small watch battery-sized metal device. He held it out so Patterson could see it.

She was already opening a small zip-top plastic evidence bag and Rich dropped the bug inside.

“And the decoy, please,” Rich said, holding his hand out for a nearly identical device.

“You sure this is going to work?” Patterson asked as she set the small decoy bug in his palm.

Rich looked away from the switch and feigned a look of hurt. He scoffed. “Of course, I’m sure. Am I sure. Please, Patty Cake. Who do you think you’re dealing with here? I’m Rich Dotcom.”

After a moment Rich had the new bug installed and the switch plate back in place.

“Go ahead,” he said and nodded towards Patterson. “Give it a try.”

Patterson dug around inside the bag they’d brought from the NYO until she found the small black box and headset they’d appropriated from the lab. She fitted the headset to her ear and slid a switch on the box to the on position.

“Say something,” she said to Rich as she began walking towards the bedroom.

“What do you want me to say?” Rich asked. “Oh, I guess that works.”

Patterson smiled and gave him a nod as static filled her ear.

“Good enough,” she said as she returned to where he stood in the doorway. “Next?”

***

Madeleine Burke was waiting for Tasha when she arrived in her office. Tasha dreaded meeting with Madeleine. This was absolutely not the assignment she’d signed on for. She was supposed to get cozy with Blake Crawford to dismantle HCI Global from the inside. She had not expected to wind up under the thumb of a mentally unstable woman who had freely and proudly admitted to killing a roomful of people.

“Did you find our hacker?” Madeleine asked by way of a greeting.

“I checked with a dark web contact,” Tasha said. “Del Toro's been off the grid for a reason. He's exclusively contracted to the Sabinito drug cartel.”

“What kind of work is he doing?”

“According to my source, he's hacked the Mexican government, the DEA, ATF. His algorithm's even crashed planes of rival cartels.”

Madeleine nodded and gave a pleased smile. “Sounds like our man.”

Tasha didn’t like the idea of throwing in with a hacker who was working with a Mexican drug cartel. The cartel was not a group you wanted to mess around with. She bit her lip and crossed her arms across her chest before answering.

“But if he's that valuable to them, they're not just gonna loan him out,” Tasha said.

“So, what are we gonna do?”

Tasha dropped her arms. “I go to Mexico and convince 'em to share, show them that a powerful company like HCI Global makes a better friend than enemy.”

Madeleine smiled again. Tasha couldn’t help but think of the way a snake might look at its next meal. There was nothing warm in Madeleine’s smile. It was predatory and reminded Tasha to watch herself around her new boss. “Looks like we're going to Mexico.”

“We?”

“If this thing is as difficult as you think it might be, you're gonna need all the help you can get,” Madeleine explained patiently. “And I can be _very_ persuasive when I choose to be. Besides it might be fun.”

Tasha inwardly groaned while simultaneously offering Madeleine a grin to match her own. She hated the idea of intentionally linking up with someone working with the cartel and she liked the idea of Madeleine traveling with her even less.

When Tasha didn’t leave the office, Madeleine raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is there something else?”

Tasha shook her head. “No. That’s it,” she said quietly and turned towards the door.

She made her way to the street and flagged down a cab. With most of her possessions in storage and no apartment to go home to, her options were limited: a hotel. The idea of sitting alone in a cold hotel room was just about as appealing as boarding a private jet with Madeleine Burke and traveling to Mexico to borrow a hacker from a cartel. Tasha leaned back in the cab and asked the driver to take her to her hotel. She should have been thinking about the trip to Mexico but her mind kept wandering back to seeing Patterson in the park. Not just seeing Patterson in the park but kissing Patterson in the park. And Patterson had said it back: _it’s always been you, too._

Tasha pulled her burner phone out of her jacket pocket and turned it anxiously in her hand. She should have thrown the phone away after warning Patterson that someone was watching her apartment. And then she should have tossed it after agreeing to meet Patterson in the park. She definitely shouldn’t still be carrying it around. Using it now to text Patterson would be almost as big of a mistake as pulling out her personal phone and using that. She sighed and closed her eyes. Her mind replayed the meeting at the park. Patterson had hugged her so fiercely that she’d nearly fallen over and she could still feel her lips on her own. For years Tasha had wondered what it would be like to put her hands on Patterson’s hips, pull her close, and kiss her. She didn’t have to wonder anymore. Tasha would be perfectly content to kiss Patterson like that for the rest of her life.

Before she could fully think about how stupid she was being, Tasha pulled up the text conversation with Patterson on the burner phone and punched in a new message.

**Good afternoon. This is Julie from Cuttlefish Pest Elimination. I’m just following up on the notice one of our service technicians left with you.**

She hit send and waited. Her phone vibrated almost instantly.

**Thanks Julie. The problem has been solved. I look forward to working with your company again.**

“I’ve changed my mind,” Tasha told the cab driver and then recited Patterson’s address. She rolled the back window down and tossed the phone out of the car.

***

Patterson was sitting on the couch in her apartment when she received Tasha’s text. Rich had already left after testing out their replacement bugs at least a dozen times. She was finally satisfied that the switch was successful and whoever was listening in would be frustrated by static but that didn’t stop her from pulling all of her curtains tight and keeping unnecessary lights in the off position. For a while she kept peering out the front window at every car backfire and door slam but she’d seen no sign of a government sedan or anything out of the usual.

A sudden sharp rap on her front door caused her to jump. She’d been so consumed with the silence and her mind had begun to wander back to Tasha and the park. They’d kissed. It’d been a great kiss but Patterson cringed at the memory. She shouldn’t have done that. She climbed off the couch, shoving a throw blanket to the side and shuffled to the door. Rich must have forgotten something. She didn’t bother to check the peephole and just unlocked it.

“What’d you forget, Rich?”

Tasha stood in the hallway, her hand raised in mid-knock. She gave Patterson an uncertain grin and then took an uninvited step into the room. She kissed the blonde forcefully, walking her back into the apartment and closing the door behind her. Patterson broke the kiss, putting a hand on Tasha’s chest and pushing her lightly backwards.

“Tash? What are you doing?” she asked.

“What I’ve wanted to do for years.”

“But —”

“But what, Patterson?” Tasha asked, taking a step backwards until her back hit the closed door. “I told you it was never Reade. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you. You said it back to me. I heard you.”

“You heard me?”

Tasha nodded. “Did you mean it?”

Patterson looked away. She had meant it but when she’d said it, she thought that it might be the last time she saw her. She still didn’t understand what was happening with her friend but the one thing Patterson was certain of was that Rich was right: she did love Tasha.

“Yeah,” Patterson admittedly quietly. “I did.”

“Okay then,” Tasha said. She took a deep breath and took another step towards Patterson. She brushed her lips over the blonde’s and kissed her softly, bringing her hands to the back of Patterson’s neck and caressing the soft skin there. This was how she’d always imagined their first kiss. She knew there were no do-overs but she hoped that this would be the kiss Patterson would remember.

Patterson put her hands on Tasha’s hips and urged her to walk forward into the room. Her mind was racing. She was in her apartment, kissing Tasha but Tasha was wanted by the CIA. No one was supposed to see her. She had so many questions she needed Tasha to answer but her mind couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of Tasha’s soft lips against her own. Patterson guided them slowly towards the couch and pulled Tasha down with her, their kiss breaking naturally as the tumbled to the cushions.

When Tasha tried to kiss her again, Patterson put a hand up to stop her.

“Wait,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I don’t want to make a mistake.”

Tasha straightened back up. “You think this is a mistake?”

Patterson shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe? I have so many things I want to ask you. So many things I want answers to.”

“I know,” Tasha said quietly. She leaned back on the couch even though her body wanted her to lean forward, push Patterson down, straddle her legs, and finish what she had started. “I can’t answer your questions, P. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Then we can’t,” Patterson said. Her body screamed at her. She ached for Tasha’s lips on hers and her hands desperately wanted to roam over the brunette’s flawless skin. “I hate myself for that but the CIA wants you dead or alive. You’ve killed people. I love you, Tash, but I don’t understand any of this.”

Tasha wiped a hand over her face. The explanation was so topsy turvy that she didn’t know if she could explain it even if she was permitted to. She’d been so reckless already by simply reaching out to Patterson and had jeopardized her mission as well as Patterson’s safety.

“I know you want answers,” she said slowly. “I don’t have a lot of them. The only thing I can tell you is I haven’t turned. I’m not a murderer or a turncoat or any of the other things the CIA or NSA has said. I promise you that, Patterson. I just need you to believe me and trust me —”

“What about Reade?” Patterson asked.

Tasha took a deep breath before answering. She’d slept with him. Hell, for the better part of a year, she’d moaned to Patterson about how she’d missed her chance at love because Reade was engaged and she had feelings for him. How could she explain that away except to say that she’d made a mistake? When she thought she had no chance with Patterson, she’d readjusted her focus to someone who made her happy. Reade was one of her very best friends and it seemed to make sense but sleeping with Reade and being with him as a girlfriend was wrong.

“I don’t love him,” Tasha said finally. “He’s a good friend and I love him as a friend. I thought maybe it was more than that but I had more than that with him and I don’t love him. It’s you and it’s been you since we first met.”

Patterson arched an eyebrow. Since the first day they met? Why had it taken all these years for Tasha to say something?

“Since we first met?” she repeated.

“Yeah.”

Patterson forgot her need for reasons and wrapped her arms around Tasha’s waist. She pulled her as close as she could and kissed her. Unlike her bold move in the park, she didn’t feel like she was making a mistake and when Tasha threaded her hand into her hair and kissed her back, her heart leapt. This was real. And it was natural. Being with Tasha like this felt easy and natural. She leaned backwards and pulled Tasha back with her until Patterson felt her head hit the couch’s arm rest. She tipped her hips upward as they kissed and moaned quietly when Tasha rocked down on her, grinding against her.

The friction Tasha was creating from her undulating hips was driving her crazy. She felt like a teenager in the back of a car, making out for the first time. Her body tingled as Tasha peppered her jaw with kisses as she worked her way down her neck. Patterson felt Tasha slip a hand beneath her blouse and she bucked her hips reflexively as a warm hand began caressing one of her bra-covered breasts.

Tasha chuckled softly somewhere in the back of her throat and kissed Patterson again, tracing Patterson’s lower lip with her tongue.

“Tasha,” Patterson whispered. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Mmhmm,” Tasha replied as she pulled the collar of Patterson’s shirt aside and placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin. “Terrible”

Patterson struggled to sit back up, pushing Tasha backwards until the brunette was sitting upright, straddling her legs. She reached up and worked the buttons on Tasha’s blouse, pushing the silky garment open and exposing a black, lacy bra that seemed so out of place with the rest of Tasha’s outfit. Tasha shrugged out of her shirt and brought her hands behind herself to work the clasp of her bra.

"You're gorgeous," Patterson said as she watched as Tasha reached behind herself and unfastened her bra, pulling the cups slowly away from her breasts, revealing her hard nipples. Patterson's hands automatically went to Tasha's breasts, cupping them and brushing the pad of her thumb over one nipple.

Tasha tipped her head back and let out a moan as Patterson took her right nipple in her mouth. The warmth of her mouth was unexpected and Tasha brought her hands to the back of the blonde’s head, holding her in place while she suckled and lapped at the peaked nipple. She’d spent many nights thinking what it might be like to have Patterson in this position and now it was happening. A chill ran down her spine and she moaned again as Patterson bit down lightly and gave a tug. She cupped Patterson’s face in her hands and pulled her away.

“No,” she said softly. “I mean, yes. It’s nice. Really, really nice. But I have to go. I’m leaving for Mexico in a few hours —”

“Mexico?” Patterson sat up and scooted backwards on the couch, increasing the space between them. “What are you —”

“I can’t, P,” Tasha said. She leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I want to tell you everything and I really, really want this. You have no idea how much I want this but...”

Patterson looked down to the floor. This was never going to work. She was right. It was a terrible idea. But she didn’t care anymore if it was a terrible idea or not. There was only thing she wanted right then and she was sitting in front of her telling her she had to leave. She made eye contact with Tasha and reached up and silently unbuttoned her shirt, letting it fall away in a pool of fabric on the couch before reaching behind herself and unclasping her bra.

She grabbed for Tasha’s hands and held them tightly.

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight. 7:30

Patterson glanced at the wall clock. She brought one of Tasha’s hands to her lips and kissed the palm.

“Then we have a little time,” she said. “I don’t want to waste it.”

“Patterson,” Tasha whispered and shook her head. “I don’t want to rush this. I want this – us – to be perfect.”

Patterson brought Tasha’s hands up to her chest to feel the thudding in her chest. “It’s you. It’s already perfect.”

Tasha kissed Patterson again. Her words sent a wave of lust through her and she pushed the blonde backwards, her hands leaving her breasts and finding the button of Patterson’s pants. She worked the closure quickly before grabbing the fabric and roughly pulling the material down the other woman’s legs. She leaned forward to kiss her again, dragging her nipples over Patterson’s, eliciting a hiss from the woman below her.

"Oh my god," Patterson breathed, delighting at the friction caused by their two bodies. Tasha's lips left hers and started down her body.

Tasha sucked one breast into her mouth. She smiled when Patterson arched her back again and her hands found their way into Tasha’s hair. Tasha caught her hands, and she kissed each palm and then pulled them over the blonde's head and held them there while she returned her attention to Patterson's nipples. Patterson tried to grab a fistful of Tasha's short hair but the brunette applied more pressure on her hands and kept them pinned in place.

Patterson struggled to sit up again, to regain some of the control Tasha had taken away from her, but Tasha pushed her back again, finally releasing her hands. She kissed her way down Patterson’s body, finally reaching the waist of her panties. She kissed just above the garment before changing her position and pushing Patterson’s legs as far apart as she could. She kissed the inside of each thigh, her nose brushing over the blonde’s fabric covered mound as she passed. Patterson moaned at the light sensation and squirmed on the couch.

“Should we go to the bedroom?” Patterson asked between gasps for air.

Tasha shook her head and dipped a finger beneath her panties. She slowly traced along the edges of the garment.

“There’s nothing I can do in the bedroom that I can’t do right here,” Tasha said as she placed another kiss on the damp fabric.

She ran her index finger around the edges of Patterson's panties, purposefully avoiding her core and clit. After a few seconds of teasing, Tasha pushed her hand flat against Patterson's center and began rubbing slowly.

Patterson groaned and Tasha was certain she heard a whimper as her fingers danced over and around her clit. She looked back up to Patterson's face and saw how it was both flushed and red. She watched as her chest heaved and back arched. She focused her attention on Patterson's clit and enjoyed watching Patterson's hips buck upwards. Tasha crashed her mouth back onto Patterson's lips and kissed her as she continued rubbing.

"Tasha..." Patterson moaned between kisses. "Please."

Tasha grinned against Patterson’s lips and gave a slight chuckle.

“Listen to you begging to come,” she said. “You’re a slut.”

"Oh my god," Patterson moaned again. "Please."

Tasha laughed playfully and sucked at a spot on Patterson’s neck.

“You like the idea of being my slut, don’t you?”

Patterson started to respond but Tasha silenced her with a forceful kiss that knocked the wind and words out of her. Tasha kneeled between Patterson's legs and pushed the thin black cloth down her legs, tossing it to the floor. Patterson felt Tasha's warm breath on her thighs just before her tongue darted out and licked her inner thighs. She kissed and licked around the edges of Patterson's center, teasing the blonde. Patterson grabbed at Tasha's hair and pulled, causing Tasha to look up.

"Please, Tash," Patterson said. She sounded winded. "Just fuck me. Please."

Patterson barely had the last word out of her mouth when Tasha took a long lick along the blonde's folds.

"Oh!" Patterson cried as her head lolled back against the arm of the couch.

Tasha took another long lap with the flat of her tongue, spreading Patterson wide open. She took her time exploring the warm wetness of Patterson's core as the blonde squirmed against her, seeking more friction. Tasha pushed her tongue between the folds, dragging it slowly along the center, stopping only when her tongue pushed up against Patterson's clit. She licked and flicked her tongue at the bud before wrapping her lips around it and sucking hard. She was rewarded with another buck of Patterson's hips.

"Tasha," Patterson groaned, shoving a hand in Tasha's hair to hold her in place and pushing herself hard against Tasha's mouth.

Tasha knew Patterson was close. She was dripping wet and the bucking of her hips was coming quicker. She grabbed one of Patterson’s legs and draped it over her shoulder to give herself better access and Patterson moved her other leg to Tasha’s other shoulder, circling the brunette’s torso with her legs. Tasha pressed one finger against Patterson's core and let it slip inside her, turning it as she pulled out and adding a second finger. She continued sucking on Patterson's sensitive bundle of nerves as she worked her fingers in and out rapidly. She reached up with her free hand and pinched one of the blonde's nipples, twisting it slightly and getting another moan in return. She curved the fingers buried inside Patterson's center and bumped up against a particularly sensitive spot and felt Patterson start to come undone.

Patterson's climax hit her hard.Tasha worked her fingers faster and faster as Patterson's orgasm overtook her. Patterson clenched her legs tightly around Tasha’s head, nearly cutting off her supply of oxygen as she clamped down. Tasha licked her faster as she changed the rhythm of her pistoning fingers.

The scientist stilled finally and her grip on Tasha's head relaxed. The brunette gave the inside of Patterson's thigh a quick kiss before she climbed back up Patterson’s body. Patterson scooted to the side to make room for Tasha, and she watched as the blonde caught her breath. She planted a kiss on Patterson's cheek and pressed herself against Patterson's side.

“It was always you,” Tasha said as she rested her head on Patterson’s shoulder. “I should have told you that years ago but it was always you.”

Patterson shifted on the couch beside Tasha and kissed the top of her head.

“Go to Mexico,” she said quietly. “I’ve waited years for you. I can wait a little longer.”


End file.
